The Ununsub
by RosettaWuzHere
Summary: A fun one-shot. Prompt: An interrogation scene. The BAU is interrogating someone they believe to be an unsub. The story is from the interrogated person's point of view and how he/she experiences the members of the BAU team. R&R plz!


I sat in the interrogation room, feeling mildly panicky. Some people had stormed into my apartment- my NEW apartment and charged with a crime. Not a petty crime. Serial murders. I could see people walking past the door, glaring in or shaking their head in pity. Didn't they get the fact that I wasn't guilty? The door opened and man came into the room holding a file folder. He sat down at the small table and introduced himself.

"Hello, Christy?" I nodded. "I'm Agent Rossi. I'm with the F.B.I." he talked friendly, but his eyes were searching me.

"Why am I here? I don't even understand why.." I broke off, for fear of my voice cracking. I didn't want to seem weak in front of this man. He smiled in what I'm sure was supposed to a comforting way, but it just made me feel worse. He took a picture out of his folder and slid it across the table. I wanted to throw up.

"Oh my god.." I muttered. A dead girl with her throat slit. A prostitute, by the looks of her clothing-or lack of it. He pulled out two more pictures.

"Christy. We have phone calls from your house to all three victims hours before they died. We have a witness of a woman fleeing the scene. A woman with long, blond hair. Possibly a college student. We also have a profile that nails you to the wall." he said, his voice getting louder as he continued. "You killed those women didn't you Christy?"

"No!" I cried, putting my head in my hands. Agent Rossi stood up. Then he leaned closer to me, pointing at the photographs.

"Ms. Wall. Why don't you spend some time in here, alone with them. Take a good look. That's right. And when you want to confess, I'll be right here." he said angrily, gesturing to the two way glass. He left. I wanted to cry. Instead, I glared at the two way glass.

A few minutes later, a woman came in. She had short blond hair and a pretty smile, even if it was faked.

"Ms. Wall." she began. She didn't look eager to do this. "Look. We already have all the evidence. We _know_ you're guilty. You've had these urges, ever since you were in high school." I was frantically shaking my head now. "Someone in your past was like these women weren't they? Someone with dark hair and blue eyes. Someone who thought they could just brush you off." I stared at the ground. They all thought I was guilty.

"You're wrong." I turned to the glass. "Dead wrong." When the blond woman left, I could hear a man's voice, authoritative and commanding.

"We need Emily to go in and act as a potential victim see how she-" the voice was cut off.

It was a while before the next person came in. Oddly beautiful with dark hair. She sat down, cross legged and pushed the papers to the side.

"Mind I smoke?" she asked. It turned out to be a rhetorical question, because before I could answer she light up and leaned across the table. "So here's how they got it figured," she began, not leaving much room for interrupting , "They think you're rare. A female serial killer. Ooh. Scary. But I don't think that at all. I think you're a lowlife nobody." she sat back, obviously satisfied with her conclusion.

I stared at her. After some debate, some arguing, she left. And before long someone else walked in. I was getting tired. I told him, a muscly, dark man who preferred to lean against a wall than sit in a chair.

"I'm innocent! Please.." I said, tears coming to my eyes. He looked me up and down.

"You are either a very good actor, or a very desperate girl. Personally, I think you're innocent. But if you are, you're gonna have to help me out here. |What's your side of the story?" he asked, finally!

"What story? I mean-I-I just moved into my apartment a week ago and then you people barge in on me. Tell me that I committed a bunch of murders!" I said, finally letting my flow of anger out.

"Girl, you're gonna have to give me more than that." he said, crossing his arms.

"There is no more than that!" I cried. The man sighed, shook his head and walked out of the room. I sank into my chair and rubbed my eyes. I couldn't take much more of this.

The door burst open once again and a man with dark hair and darker eyes stormed into the room.

"Ms. Walls. I have had enough of this. You killed these women!" He was scary, and so convincing I almost believed him. Another man, skinner with an inquisitive face and an argyle sweater vest joined him in the room.

"Hotch, Hotch. Wait a second. Christy, you say you just moved into the apartment?" he asked me. I nodded. "It is a house primarily rented out to students of the local university correct?" I nodded again. He turned to the other man. Presumably, 'Hotch'.

"When was the last killing?" he asked, his foot tapping on the floor.

"A little over a week ago."

"We may have the wrong unsub! If the unsub was actually the tenant before, say, a girl with long blond hair, it would explain the calls from the house!" he said excitedly.

Hotch's brow creased. "Have Garcia check the previous tenants." the younger man ran off like he was on fire. Hotch turned to me.

"I am so sorry. I sincerely apologize for our-" I cut him short.

"Just get me out of here." I said curtly.

"You'll have to fill out some forms."

"Whatever."

As I was leaving the building, Agent Rossi came in with a girl around my age, with long blond hair. He didn't even notice me.


End file.
